


Bugs and Organs

by NeuroWriter14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Do not repost, I'm fucking with timelines again, It's more fun than it seems, It's not meant to be all that serious, M/M, Professor!Harry, Sex, Writer!Tom, all the sex, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14
Summary: Tom is a writer. Harry is a professor. One of them is a serial killer and both think it’s the other one.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 40
Kudos: 101





	1. Meet Cute

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry had just arrived at the party what would be considered fashionably late. Except that he didn't want to arrive, so he was quite purposefully late. One of the two reasons he even came to the party was bounding toward him, her brunette bushy hair bouncing with every step and her wide smile somehow become wilder as she launched into Harry's arms, nearly making him drop the bottle of wine he had brought with him. It was a housewarming party, after all, he felt obligated to bring something. Though he knew it wasn't necessary. 

Hermione was one of his oldest friends since they were children. She, along with Ron — now Hermione's husband — had been like family to Harry for years. They were the reason Harry had come at all. He actually wasn't the biggest fan of parties because they always devolved into the other party-goers staring at Harry and most especially his forehead. People were always talking about him, the Boy Who Lived. But he wasn't a boy anymore, and the dark wizard who had murdered his family and tried to murder him was locked away in a prison, never to leave. He would die there. But that didn't stop people from staring. 

Quite thankfully, his face was hidden in a mass of bushy hair at the moment so Hermione's loud greeting went unnoticed. 

"I'm so glad you came," Hermione said as she pulled away, still grinning at him. 

They had been friends since they were 11 after the world's strangest bonding. To this day, no one knew how exactly the troll managed to find its way into Hogwarts, though it had scared one professor so terribly, he quit after the year was over. No one knew what happened to Quirrell after that, though there were rumors he was somewhere in Austria. Harry had met Ron on the train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only months before they had befriended Hermione. Or rather, Hermione befriended them and then never let go. That being said, Hermione was one of the people Harry trusted most in the world. The other was trailing behind her, face nearly as red as his hair. 

"Harry," Ron greeted once Hermione relented her vice-like grip on him, the two of them falling into a familiar hug before pulling away. Ron turned so his head was next to Harry's ear and whispered, "Save me." Harry almost told Ron the same thing. 

He remembered the bottle of wine in his hand and offered it to Hermione. It was really more for her anyway. Hermione, having grown up in the Muggle world like him, would appreciate it. 

"Well come in," Hermione said shuttling him further into the house. 

He recognized several faces belonging to people who were with them in Hogwarts, some in the same house and some not. He could see Ron's family scattered around the room, bright red hair appearing in between groups of others. He could see Fred and George eyeing the mass of people, likely looking for the victim of their newest invention for their shop in Diagon Alley. He could also see Arthur and Molly Weasley, both talking animatedly with Hermione's parents. Bill and Charlie weren't there, one currently curse-breaking and the other likely still working with the dragon Hagrid had found in Harry's first year. Norbert was the dragon's name and he was certainly not at all tame upon just hatching. Harry shuttered to think what he would be like years later. He also caught a glimpse of Ginny Weasley who was talking animatedly with Oliver Wood, both of whom had gone on to be professional Quidditch players.

For a while, it had seemed like Harry and Ginny were destined to marry themselves. It never quite worked out that way, and Harry still didn't know if Ron was happy about that or not. 

He also caught a glimpse of Seamus Finnigan, another who had been in their year at Hogwarts, who was currently being handed his drink by a very wary-looking Dean Thomas. Seamus had a knack for making things explode and while the result was often to have the explosion in his own face, others were still wary around him, none more than Dean who was Seamus's partner. 

"The food is over there," Hermione said, distracting Harry from his worry of an impending explosion. 

"Alcohol is over there," Ron said from his other side. 

"And you know most of the people here," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's comment. "Except-" She cut herself off, looking around the party. "I'll find him eventually." She turned back to Harry. "Make yourself at home." 

Right then, something caught Hermione's attention and Harry turned just in time to see her stalking toward Fred and George. The twins immediately embraced their sister-in-law and part of Harry wondered what would happen if Hermione's brain was ever applied to their madness. Not that both weren't highly intelligent too. It took intelligence to create everything they had managed to. But he imagined it would be far worse with Hermione on their side. 

Harry trailed Ron around the party as the two of them first moved to the food and then to the alcohol. 

The three of them had been out of Hogwarts for three years now. Hermione was currently working in the Ministry of Magic and likely well on track to become Minister for Magic. Ron was an auror, working his way through the ranks. Harry had originally thought he would be an auror but ultimately chose to teach at Hogwarts. Strangely enough, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor position had opened up once more, and Harry was quick to apply. He and another who had been in his year, Neville Longbottom, were set to begin in the upcoming year. 

Still though, sometimes Harry felt like they were back in Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione glued to his sides. 

Eventually, though, Ron trailed away. Such was the life of a party host. 

Harry bounced from group to group, finding his friends from Hogwarts and then some people he only barely knew and then Ron and Hermione's parents before he eventually found his way back to the many self-refilling cups of firewhiskey. 

He was grateful for the limited amount of people at the party, only one or two really stared at the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. 

Naturally, though, that meant that as he reached for a new drink the hand that met his own in reaching for the same cup belonged to someone Harry had never once met. 

"My apologies," A voice said as Harry looked up to see the other person. 

"No, I'm-" Harry's voice escaped him immediately upon seeing the man next to him. He was beautiful, handsome. Harry swallowed thickly as he looked up to see high cheekbones, wavy chestnut hair, and deep, dark blue eyes. "Sorry." He finished weakly. 

"No," The other said, flashing Harry a smile that stopped his heart. "The fault is mine." The other's hand moved, offering it to Harry. "I'm Tom. Tom Riddle." 

"Harry," He managed. "Harry Potter." 

For a moment, he waited for the other to have the same starstruck look in his eyes as people often gave Harry. But instead, the other merely smiled again. "A pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter." 

Harry shook his hand, hoping that the other couldn't feel his heart hammering in his palm. Of course, Harry just happened to meet a handsome stranger here while reminiscing about the past and what could have been. But Tom immediately sent all those other thoughts out the window with the batting of his long eyelashes and the curl of his pink lips. 

"So how-how do you know Ron and Hermione?" He asked, forcing himself to drop the other's hand. He had held it for far too long, not that the other ever complained. 

"Oh I don't know Ron and I barely know Hermione." The other lifted one of the cups of firewhiskey and handed it to Harry who took it, glad for something to do with his otherwise nervous hands. "I just moved here and I met Hermione a few days ago." 

"How?" Harry asked, the two of them moving away from the table with the drinks and toward another where there were fewer people. 

"I'm writing a book, you see," Tom said, his voice sounding like velvet to Harry's ears. "And I'm doing some researching your Ministry of Magic. Hermione was kind enough to sit down and speak with me. I'm supposed to be meeting with Ron next Monday." 

"What's your book about?" 

"Magical law enforcement," Tom answered vaguely. "Might I ask what you do?"

"Oh, I'm-" What did he do? "I'm starting as a professor at Hogwarts next month." 

"Ah, Hogwarts." The other sighed. Tom didn't look much older than Harry, so he assumed the other was just out of school himself. He must have gone to one of the other wizarding schools. Harry would have remembered him at Hogwarts. "My family went there for generations. But I went to Durmstrang." 

"May I ask why?" Harry would do anything to continue hearing that voice. 

"My mother wanted to get away from her family. We moved when I was very young." 

"And you moved back." Tom hummed, his eyes flicking over Harry. 

"Yes. My mother died a year ago. And I thought it might be worth going home." His long fingers tapped on his drink as he spoke. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said, suddenly feeling awkward. 

"It's all right. She was sick. She's not in any pain now." The other sipped from his cup, his eyes still watching Harry over the rim. "And now that you know a bit of my sad story, what's yours? What secrets lie behind those emerald eyes?" 

Harry could feel his face reddening as he finally broke away from looking at the other to take a sip of his own neglected Firewhiskey. "Oh, I um-" 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know more." Tom practically purred. Harry repressed a shiver. 

"Ah! Tom! Harry! There you are." Hermione appeared at Harry's side nearly making him spill his drink and reminding him of the party roaring around him. "I see you two have already met." 

"Oh yes," Tom answered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We've met." 

"And getting along well, I hope," Hermione prodded, mostly at Harry's silence. 

"Why Ms. Granger, do you think me uncivilized?" It was a gentle tease but Harry was more caught in the thousand-watt smile that accompanied it and the flash of dark blue eyes. Harry could see how he managed to charm Hermione, Harry was quite charmed himself. 

"Of course not," Hermione's cunning eyes were still watching him skeptically though. 

"Tom's been nothing but nice," Harry said finally, forcing his voice to work. "How are you enjoying your party?" 

"Oh, it's better now that I managed to stop the twins from blowing a hole in my ceiling." Harry could tell that under her attempt at exasperation, she was still a bit amused. 

"It's quite a lovely house you have," Tom said, leaning on the table between him and Harry. "Thank you for inviting me." 

"Of course," Hermione answered before she was immediately distracted again. "Excuse me." 

"She's always on the move, isn't she?" Tom asked, looking at Harry as his head lolled on his shoulder. "I don't blame her. She's quite intelligent. Intelligent people are always busy." 

"Speaking from experience?" Harry asked. 

"Oh, yes." Tom winked. Harry felt himself begin to blush once again. "So," Tom began, dragging out the word. "I seem to have an effect on you. You have an effect on me." His dark eyes twinkled again. "You want to take me home?" 

Harry's mouth went dry and his mouth whispered a yes before his brain could even begin to catch up. 

It took two minutes to leave his friend's house and apparate to his own. It was foolish really, taking someone home he just met. But the moment his door opened, Tom's lips were on his own and Harry forgot every bit of foolishness he felt with this impulsive decision. Tom tasted like firewhiskey and something far sweeter underneath. Harry barely managed to close his front door when the other pushed him up against it, his hands cupping Harry's face and their lips locked together. 

Harry's hands settled on the other's hips, as their tongues met between them, both tasting. Tom's teeth sunk into his bottom lip and Harry's breath caught for a second. He rarely did anything with anyone. Most people who wanted to weasel their way into Harry's life wanted to because of who he was. The Boy Who Lived. A strange case. Someone famous. The only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse. He kept most people away, rarely ever engaging in a romantic relationship. Yet here he was with someone he just met, their bodies grinding together against his front door. 

And he was _hard._

One of Tom's hands moved into his hair, always more wild than anything, and the other down his chest and to his hip, steadying Harry as they ground together. Harry moved one of his hands up to grip the other's shoulders, feeling the lithe muscles move and roll as the other explored his body. Tom nudged his leg between Harry's, his thigh pressing against the bulge in his pants. Harry's thigh, due to the position, was also pressing against the bulge in the other's pants, the two of them grinding down against the other for friction. Never had he been so easily aroused by another person. 

Tom's hand moved from his hip to his lower back to urge Harry's movements, making him go slightly faster. 

"Bedroom?" Tom asked between kisses. 

Harry pushed off the door, moving the two of them through his apartment and toward his bedroom. It wasn't messy, thankfully, but he doubted the other noticed the slight mess here or there as they tripped over their shoes and onto Harry's bed. The other was over him instantly, pressing his body flush against Harry's. 

Tom shifted so he was between Harry's legs, rocking his hips so their lengths brushed over and over between them. Harry was straining against his clothes, his cock throbbing. He really should have thought about this more before the other trapped him onto his own bed, brushing their cocks together through their pants over and over. But mostly he thought about how those pink lips felt against his own and how desperately he wanted to feel more. 

He began fumbling with Tom's shirt, and together they hastily pulled it off. Tom was pale, especially against his skin, but Harry quite enjoyed it as his hands gripped the other's shoulders. After another moment of frantic kissing, Tom's hands began working on Harry's shirt, eventually freeing him. The other's lips moved from his mouth to his neck immediately after that, biting and kissing at the skin above his pulse before moving down to his collar bone, his tongue tracing the length of it. Harry's hand moved into the other's hair, feeling soft strands fall between his fingers as he gripped. 

The feel of skin on skin was electrifying as Tom's body ground against his own. Harry's own hips bucked up into the other. After a moment, Tom pulled back and rolled off him, beginning to grasp at the hem of his pants. 

"Get undressed," He nearly demanded and Harry obliged immediately. 

Tom's eyes ran over his body hungrily, and Harry felt himself blush again. He never felt like he was all that good looking, he didn't think he was handsome. But Tom — beautiful Tom — was looking at him as though he was going to devour Harry. 

"On your belly," Tom said after a moment, his fingers still trailing over Harry's body as he looked him over. 

"You're awfully bossy," Harry said, moving up the bed and onto his stomach. 

"I don't hear you complaining." Tom's voice was right next to his ear and his teeth nipped the shell of Harry's ear before he felt the other's weight sink on top of him. 

Tom felt amazing, even with the little contact they had. But more than anything, he could feel Tom's cock where it pressed against his lower back, the head leaking. He repressed a moan as the other's teeth and tongue and lips began moving down his body. He nipped at Harry's shoulder, his back, the back of his neck, his down his spine, his ribs, and eventually just above the swell of his ass. 

"Is this all right?" Tom asked, his breath ghosting over Harry's cheeks. 

"Yes," Harry managed just before the other pressed a kiss to each cheek and then spread him. 

Tom hummed slightly, his breath hot on Harry before he felt the other's tongue flit over his hole. That time, he wasn't able to repress his moan. Tom hummed again, and repeated the action, this time lapping deeper. The other's hands squeezed his ass as his tongue began to work over his entrance, twisting and twirling before pressing against him softly as though he were trying to push his tongue inside Harry's body. 

Harry's lack of experience came back to him. It wasn't that he was a virgin, but he certainly didn't know all that much about sex. 

Any embarrassment he had, though, was quickly shuttled away as Tom began to prod at his hole more, licking and pressing soft kisses against him. Before long, he felt the other's tongue push inside his body slightly, and Harry moaned louder.

One hand gripped the pillow and the other reached back into the other's soft hair. He didn't push him, didn't pull, merely held on as Tom's movements increased. Tom continued eating him out like a starving man. The other eventually pressed the pad of a finger against Harry gently, questioningly, and Harry moaned what he supposed was a yes but he wasn't certain. Tom pressed into him slowly and then pulled back before repeating. Harry moaned into the pillow next to his face, his body arching slightly. 

Tom began to build up a rhythm, his tongue moving around his finger. Harry's body arched again when the other found that sweet spot within him and Tom hummed happily. 

After a moment, when his vision became clear again, Harry realized he had yet to really touch the other, but given how much control he had surrendered to Tom, he figured the other would let Harry touch him if he wanted him to. Tom pulled his hand back and slowly began to press another finger into Harry, stretching him slightly. 

"You all right?" Tom's voice was tight and his sentence structure broken down slightly. Harry wondered if the whole situation was as arousing for him as it was for Harry. 

He nodded. 

"Good." The other began to press into him more until he was buried to the second knuckle. "Very good." 

"I want-" Harry began as the other began moving his hand, fucking Harry on his fingers. 

"You want?" Tom asked, his voice playful. 

"To touch you." 

Tom hummed. "No. Not yet." 

Harry began to ask when, when Tom's fingers found that spot within him again, making him moan once more. 

The other began to scissor his fingers, stretching Harry slightly. Harry's back arched and his cock brushed against the sheets under him, giving him some relief. 

"At least-" Harry tried to say as the other leaned forward, licking _between_ his fingers and into Harry's body. 

"At least?" Tom asked with a satisfied hum as he pulled away, his fingers moving faster. 

"Touch yourself?" 

Tom hummed. "Is that what you want, Harry?" Harry swallowed thickly. "Because I'm quite content to wait until you're ready." 

Harry shivered. "I-"

"Yes, you," Tom said, driving his fingers into Harry more before adding a third. "You look delicious like this." 

"Oh, Tom." Harry moaned, pressing back against the other. 

Tom began to move his fingers faster and Harry felt — more than heard — him use a lubrication charm to ease the glide. He began to spread his fingers again after a moment, stretching Harry more and more until the stretch no longer burned slightly. Harry was practically drooling on his pillow as Tom's other hand pinned Harry's hips down, his fingers moving in and out of him with vigor. 

"Ready?" He asked, leaning next to Harry's ear. 

"Yes, Tom. Yes." His hips were rocking back of their own accord on the other's fingers. 

The other pulled away after a moment, and Harry felt strangely empty until he felt something else push against his rim. He shifted, hoping to make it easier when Tom began to push into him slowly. The other didn't bury himself all the way, just began rocking his hips slightly. And Harry felt pleasure rocketing through him at every thrust. The other's hands were pressed into the bed next to his head, and he could feel him panting slightly above him. 

He cursed lowly, in a language Harry didn't recognize before he pushed in deeper. 

Harry rocked back against him, trying to push his legs under him but Tom wouldn't let him, keeping him pressed into the bed.

"Tom, please." Harry nearly begged. "More." 

"Gladly." 

The other's hips drove down and suddenly he was buried in Harry to the hilt, his hips flush against Harry's ass and his chest against Harry's back. 

"You feel perfect," Tom breathed in his ear. "Like you were made for me." 

Harry moaned, reaching up to cup the back of the other's head and twisting so their lips could meet again. Tom began to move, his hips smacking against Harry's ass with every thrust. Harry moaned before he moved his hands to reach behind him, grasping at the other's hips to encourage every movement. Tom obeyed, thrusting into him more and more. Harry's legs curled slightly, his toes brushing along Tom's calves. 

One of Tom's hands moved, finding the hand Harry still had gripping the pillow, and laced their fingers together. 

He gripped the other's hand hard, letting out moan after moan into the pillow. Tom was panting above him, moaning as well with every brutal thrust into Harry's body. And Harry loved it. He'd never really had rough sex before, or much sex, but this was sending shockwaves of pleasure straight up his body and into his eyes, making him see stars. 

He didn't know how long they were like that before Tom's hips stilled. He was mouthing at Harry's ear, both of their chests heaving. 

"Ride me," He said before pulling away. 

Harry moved sluggishly, his legs feeling a little like jelly as Tom settled onto his back. Together, the two of them maneuvered Harry over his hips and then lined him up as Harry began to sink on the other's cock. It was so much deeper like this, Tom's cock brushing that sweet spot again as Harry sunk. He paused for a moment, feeling how well the other filled him before he began to move. Tom's hands came to a rest on Harry's hips, guiding the movement as Tom's dark eyes searched his face over and over. Harry's lips parted, letting out moan after shameless moan as his thighs flexed with every movement. 

He was just about to drop again when Tom's hips snapped upward, brushing over that spot again with such intensity that Harry's vision went black for a moment. They both moved again and Harry's whole body clenched and shuddered. 

He wasn't going to last much longer. 

Tom's hips continued to snap upward, as Harry rocked back down onto him. Tom's hands guided his every movement, practically shoving Harry down onto his cock over and over again. Harry balanced on the other's chest, his nails digging into the other's skin. 

"Oh, Harry," Tom moaned, his eyes finally shutting as his back arched. "Touch yourself." 

Harry obeyed and it only took a few strokes for him to spill over his hand and onto Tom's stomach. The other's whole body was shuddering at the clenching of Harry's and before he knew it, the other was turning him and pinning him to the bed once more. His legs were drawn up around Tom's waist and the other was thrusting brutally, chasing his own pleasure. Harry could do nothing but hold on for dear life as Tom's hips rocked, driving into him over and over and sending Harry straight into oversensitivity before he gave one more thrust and stilled, spilling into him. 

Harry was breathing heavily as Tom collapsed against him, both of them shaking slightly as Tom rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Eventually, their breathing evened out and Tom's softening cock withdrew from Harry's body. 

"I-I hope that wasn't too much," Tom whispered. 

"No. It was excellent." 

The other began to pull away, seemingly reluctantly. "I should-"

"Stay," Harry said impulsively. "Stay." 

Tom smiled and Harry's heart stopped. "All right." 

He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep not much later when he was suddenly waking and blinking into the morning sun. Harry shifted, rolling onto his back in an empty bed. It took him a minute to register that he was alone, his body aching slightly as his arms dropped into the space next to him, finding nothing but sheets. 

He sighed slightly as he pushed himself upward, reaching for his haphazardly discarded glasses. He should have known. 

Or so he thought when there was suddenly a noise in his bathroom. He heard the water run and after a moment, the door swung open to reveal Tom drying his hands. His neat hair was in about five different directions and he looked downright sinful to Harry's still half asleep gaze. 

He had managed to pull on his boxers, though that was all he put on, leaving most of his body visible to Harry's wandering eye. 

"You're awake," Tom said, nearly purring again. He discarded Harry's towel and began stalking toward the bed, dropping next to him and offering him a kiss. "So, breakfast?" 

Harry nodded and sat up in the bed, finding Tom following him with another kiss. 

The first body dropped that night. 


	2. Professor Potter

"Come on, you can't tell me anything?" Tom was trailing Ron through the auror's office in the Ministry of Magic, having started a meeting over an hour ago. Nothing that Ron told him was any good though, nothing juicy. Nothing he could use in his book. 

"I've told you already Riddle, there's nothing that I can tell you."

Tom huffed, following Ron around a stack of floating papers that was distributing notes into every office as it went. "A body dropped just the other night. What about that? You said you can't tell me much about the inner workings of the auror's office, but can you tell me about that?" In truth, Tom didn't need Ron to tell him anything about the body that dropped Saturday night. He had been one of the first there. He had seen the body, even as aurors and other magical law enforcement tried to hide it from Muggle eyes. 

It was twisted terribly, limbs flying in directions they certainly shouldn't be. Their eyes were glassy and Tom had heard someone say the entire sternum was broken as though something had run into them, but there was no bruising on the chest. It was magical, that was quite obvious. Tom watched as the Muggle police were obliviated and the scene was quickly taken over. But even the various aurors and others in magical law enforcement had no real explanation at first glance. 

"All I can tell you Riddle is that there was a body and the investigation is ongoing. I don't know how many times I can tell you the same thing over and over again." 

"Can you tell me about the likely cause for a crushed sternum without any bruising on the torso?" 

Ron whipped around, his eyes narrowing and his face reddening to the point it almost matched his hair. "How do you know about that?" 

"Does it matter?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "I know. And I'd like to know more." 

Ron was silent for a moment before he gestured to a closed door. "You want to know more. Make an appointment with him." 

Tom looked over to the closed door, seeing the name printed on it. 

_Alastor Moody._

"Moody?" Tom asked, looking down at the notebook he brought with him and Ron started to walk away again, this time flipping through old notes to find the name. "I thought he retired."

"He came back," Ron said over his shoulder. 

"So you're really not going to tell me anything." Tom followed Ron into the elevator with a huff. 

"Nope." Then Ron looked around the elevator, as though making certain it was empty before his eyes returned to Tom. "I'd rather talk about the party the other night." Tom raised an eyebrow, closing the worn notebook he carried around as he tried to put together pieces of his story. And what a story it would be. If he could ever find out more facts than the standard 'no comment' answer he received so often. "I saw you leaving with Harry." 

Tom's eyebrow rose further and he leaned back against the elevator wall, crossing one leg over another where he stood. "Are you asking because you're questioning your friend's sexuality or because you want to threaten me if I hurt him?" 

Ron's eyes narrowed again. "It's my job to think how dark wizards think. So I know exactly how to get rid of you should you hurt him." The elevator dinged and Ron's hand flew outward, gesturing through the door. "I believe this is your floor." 

Tom looked out at the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, finding the main entrance, golden statue and all waiting for him with Ron's gesturing hand. He smirked and pushing himself off the wall of the elevator with a small chuckle. He was certainly amused by the protectiveness of Harry's friend. Tom did achieve something, though, out of this day that Ron didn't even realize he had revealed. 

There was always a chance that the dark wizard they were looking for was right under the Ministry's nose.

* * *

Harry huffed as he kicked off his shoes. The first week of classes had gone by and Harry felt relatively good about them. It was certainly different being on the professor's side of the classroom, with the office and bedroom that had once belonged to some of his favorite teachers now belonging to him. Previous professors had left their notes over the years and it was with that and Harry's own experience as a student that he began to build his curriculum for his classes. Since he taught all levels, he had to be certain every lesson was coordinated from one year to the next. The first week was the easiest, as he used it to establish the basics for the first years or reestablish for the later years. It was information the older students should know but it was the basics that one should fall back on in a pinch. When it came down to it, the fancier spells were so much harder to remember when it came down to a difficult situation. 

The rest of the year though would be more difficult. 

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the desk full of papers he already had to grade. 

He hated writing papers when he was a student, he truly didn't know how much worse it would be having to read them. 

Harry dropped himself into the chair next to the fireplace in one of the rooms that branched from the main office. Despite how warm it still was outside, the castle was cool at night. Harry remembered from his time in Hogwarts enough so he really wasn't surprised. He was, however, surprised at how quickly most professors accepted him. Except for Snape, Harry was offered a warm greeting when he first arrived and since had never felt like anything less than an equal. Though Snape might disagree give that the title of youngest when first appointed professor now no longer belonged to him, but instead to Harry and Neville, both of whom had once been students of Snape.

Not that Snape's opinion ever really mattered. He had always been harsh to the point of bullying when it came to the students in his class. He very obviously played favorites, including with another in Harry's year who was Snape's godson. Harry, to this day, still hated Draco Malfoy. Harry and Neville often bore the brunt of Snape's ire, Harry especially. But when it came down to it, first with the O.W.L.s and then later with N.E.W.T.s, both harry and Neville had proved capable at potions without Snape breathing down their necks. 

Not that NEWT-level potions really mattered for Harry. Originally, he had planned to become an auror alongside Ron. But the more he studied, the more he realized he would have hated the job. So he geared his study toward being a professor and then spent the three years between graduating Hogwarts and applying for a teaching position tutoring privately. 

Harry leaned his head back on the chair, thinking about his history in Hogwarts prior to becoming a professor when a soft hoot caught his attention. Hedwig, who was sitting on her perch, lifted her head, her amber eyes turned toward the window. He followed her gaze to find an owl sitting there, watching him with a letter tied to its leg. Harry pushed upward, walking toward the nearly golden-colored owl with golden eyes as it lifted its leg obediently for Harry. He stroked the owl's chin, hearing a soft hoot in response. He didn't take the letter yet but fed the owl who hooted quietly to Hedwig. 

Then he opened the letter, leaning next to the candle on his desk to read it better. 

_Meet me? 8 pm tonight, Hogsmeade._

_-Tom._

Harry looked at the clock over the fireplace. It was nearly 8 already. He dropped the note onto his desk and looked over at Hedwig. 

"Should I meet him?" 

Harry and Tom had only exchanged a few letters, neither able to see each other with how Harry's schedule suddenly became hectic before the beginning of the school year. Hedwig fluffed herself and chirped, her eyes knowing. Harry smiled to himself and then walked to her, stroking her feathers. 

"Thanks, Hedwig." 

He slipped his shoes back on and offered another bit of food to the owl still sitting at the window. He wondered if the owl was waiting for a response, or if Tom had instructed it to stay anyway. After a moment, the owl hooted again and flew into the room, landing on one of the other perches Harry had set up for Hedwig. 

"Play nice." He said to Hedwig before shutting the door behind him. 

It didn't take long to trek from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, but he didn't even make it all the way into Hogsmeade before he was suddenly accosted, lips first, by Tom. Harry wrapped his arms around a surprisingly familiar body, even though they had only spent one night and then breakfast together. Tom tasted just as sweet as before, this time without the firewhiskey. The other pulled away for a second to press a kiss to Harry's forehead, cupping Harry's face in his hands while he did. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and Tom took the opportunity to tilt his head, pressing a gentle kiss over each of his eyes before pulling away. 

"I've missed you." 

Harry gripped Tom's wrists, finding himself smiling up at the other. He was just as beautiful as Harry remembered, all charm and mysterious dark eyes that looked even darker in the moonlight. The low light also made his cheekbones more pronounced, decorating his face in odd shadows. 

"I've missed you too." 

Tom leaned in again, and this time Harry had enough warning to tilt his head up, meeting Tom halfway. He wrapped his arms around the other again, pulling him closer. Tom moved willingly, shifting to wrap one arm around Harry. 

"So, you want to take me home?" 

"Tom," Harry huffed. 

"Harry." The other purred. 

"I can't take you into the castle." 

The other huffed. "I suppose we could always get a room at Hog's Head. But don't banish me to Hogsmeade." He was purposefully being dramatic and for a moment, it made Harry's heart fluttered. 

"Tom," Harry tried again, but the other continued. 

"Please?" Tom asked, then paused for a second, his lips quirking. "Please, Professor?" Tom's voice dropped. "I'll do anything for an O." 

"You're ridiculous," Harry chided playfully, but he was already walking backward, dragging Tom along with him to the castle.

It didn't take long for Harry to find himself in his bed, Tom over him. The other had used a Disillusionment charm while in the castle, keeping himself concealed, mostly from other professors. Harry was all but certain that it would spell trouble for him if he was caught bringing Tom into his rooms, but ultimately it was his rooms and his to do in what he chose. They both quickly put up wards, making certain that nothing and no one could go beyond Harry's office without his approval. Not that it mattered much since Harry and Tom went immediately into his bedroom. 

They had only kicked off their shoes, but Tom was already on him, pinning Harry into his pillows. 

The other ground against him, bringing his attention to both their erections. But Tom didn't roll off him to free them. Instead, he continued to grind against him, his mouth occupying Harry's fully while their hands roamed. After a moment, Tom found Harry's hands, both of which were toying with the bottom of Tom's shirt, and grasped them, pinning them to the bed next to Harry's head. Tom then ground down against him more, pressing their clothed erections together. The friction was almost unbearable as Tom's hips rocked slightly and Harry arched to find the other's lips again. 

Tom ground more, his whole body rocking into the motion until Harry felt like he was going to explode. It was only when he was shaking that the other finally let up and released Harry's hand, instead moving to take off Harry's shirt. 

They quickly undressed each other, Harry grateful that this time he could actually see the other's body more. Last time, he barely had a chance to admire before things grew more heated, but Tom was letting him this time. He trailed his hands over the other's body just as Tom did to him, both finding old scars and every sensitive spot on each other's body. Tom had straddled Harry's hips, their cocks brushing together from time to time while hands roamed, making them both moan. 

Harry trailed his hands back up the other's body, wrapping a hand around the back of the other's neck and pulling him down. Their lips met again and Tom hummed, pressing a hand against Harry's cheek and stroking his cheekbone lightly. 

"Now who's being bossy," Tom murmured against Harry's lips. 

"I thought you said you'd do anything for an O." 

He could feel Tom's smile. "And I will."

The other began to kiss down his body, over his collarbone, ribs, his abdomen, his hips, until he was settled just over Harry's cock. The other licked a stripe up the length of his shaft, making Harry shudder before he took Harry in his mouth fully. He couldn't stop himself from fisting a hand in the other's hair, his fingers curling through strands as Tom's head bobbed with enthusiasm. The other hummed every time Harry's hand tightened or he moaned, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. For a moment, he wondered if there was anything Tom wasn't good at and then the other pulled off his cock. 

"Do you trust me, Harry?" Tom asked, shifting back up the bed. 

"Yes," Harry breathed. 

Tom grinned, reminding Harry wildly of a cat, before the other settled himself over Harry's hips, wrapping his hand around Harry's cock. The other shifted upward slightly, lining himself up, before Harry's cock brushed against Tom's already lubricated hole. 

"Took some liberties," Tom huffed as he began to sink, Harry slipping inside his body. 

Both groaned in tandem when Tom was fully seated, Harry buried completely in the other. 

"Merlin, you were truly made for me." Tom's head fell backward as he spoke, shifting his hips slightly before he rose and sank again. 

Harry's hands automatically came to the other's hips, steadying him as he continued his motions. Harry watched, mostly with awe, as the muscles in Tom's thighs rippled and tensed. His hips shifted, rolling with every movement. Harry watched the way his abdomen tensed and released, the way his chest began to heave, the way his throat bobbed with every thick swallow. He continued letting his gaze drift upward until he found the other's parted lips, his high cheekbones, and his eyes which had fluttered shut. There was a loose curl on his forehead which shifted slightly with each movement. 

Harry squeezed Tom's hips lightly before thrusting upward experimentally. Tom let out a surprised moan but didn't stop him, so Harry repeated the motion, thrusting upward as Tom's body began to lower. Tom's hands moved from Harry's thighs where he was balancing himself to Harry's chest, leaning forward slightly. Harry took advantage, bringing his legs up to gain leverage as he thrust into the other's body. And what ecstasy that was. Every time their bodies met, a shockwave ran through Harry's body. He was seeing stars again, and Tom didn't look nearly as collected as he had let on the last time.

Instead, he looked quite lost in every motion, his eyes still shut and his fingers curling over and over against Harry's chest. 

Harry moved one of his hands from the other's hips, glad for the chance to finally touch the other as he wanted to. He wrapped his hand around the other's cock, pumping in time with their combined movements. 

Tom moaned again and lowered himself, leaning on one forearm next to Harry's head while the other cupped his face. Their lips met and Harry couldn't help but moan at the new angle of Tom's body he was fucking into. 

They kissed until neither of their lips could no longer form the motions, mouths open and gasping while their foreheads pressed together. 

Tom's body began to tense and Harry could tell he was so very near his edge. He was too. He doubled his efforts, doing his best to keep an even rhythm as he thrust into the other. Tom's body stilled, his breath catching so obviously that Harry's own caught in response before he spilled over Harry's hand, letting out a choked moan. His body tensed, tightening around Harry's length so much that he couldn't hold back his own orgasm, spilling into Tom's body. 

They rocked slowly, riding out their orgasms before they stilled, Tom lowering himself onto Harry's chest. 

"That was nice," He hummed, nuzzling against Harry's throat. 

"I didn't realize how much I missed you," Harry answered. And it was true. He had been trying to keep his distance emotionally from Tom. He assumed that their one experience was just that. The one. He never expected to find himself with Tom pressed against him once more, the two of them both coming down from the high of their orgasms. 

"You wouldn't have to miss me so much if we saw each other more often." 

"Are you asking me out, Tom?" Harry asked, finding his heart flutter slightly at the option. 

"Yes." The other confirmed. "But not tonight. I would like to sleep." 

"We should probably-" Harry began but was immediately cut off by a wave of Tom's hand, cleaning them up instantly. The other stretched out his legs on either side of Harry's pressing his full weight into Harry's body. Not that he weighed much. It was oddly grounding. "Are-" He began but Tom groaned in response. 

"I'm quite comfortable like this." The other's nose brushed against his cheek. "Goodnight, Harry." 

Harry found himself smiling slightly, wrapping his arms around Tom's body over him. "Goodnight, Tom." 

The next morning, Harry woke to Tom pressing soft kisses against his neck. They had apparently moved during the night as he was on his side with Tom behind him. 

"Morning," He muttered, voice still thick with sleep.

"You're quite a heavy sleeper," Tom said. "You didn't even hear me get breakfast." 

Harry pealed an eye open to see the dual trays sitting on his bedside table, both piled high with food. 

"Did you-"

"No," Tom said, pressing another kiss to his neck. "They were in your office this morning. I just brought them in." 

Harry nodded and yawned before turning himself over and stretching. The moment he finished, Tom leaned down again, pressing another kiss against his lips. Harry kissed him back, incredibly glad to have someone to kiss him in the morning. 

"Let's eat." 

Harry nodded and first went to the bathroom. While there, he attempted to tame his hair somewhat, but it was a loss. When he returned, Tom had pulled on one of his robes and was sitting at the table near the window reading the _Daily Prophet_ and sipping a cup of what Harry assumed was coffee. The other pushed out the chair across from him with his foot and Harry smiled slightly, pulling on a t-shirt and underwear before moving to join him. 

"So, what will you being doing today?" Tom asked as they ate. 

"Grading papers." Harry sighed. "And you?" 

"Oh, I have an appointment with your headmaster in about," Tom looked over at the clock and then back to Harry. "An hour." 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://neurowriter14.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NWriter14)


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